


Preventers: Shorts

by katquasar



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Character Study, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Implied Relationships, Life After War, Multi, Not Gundam Wing: Frozen Teardrop Compliant, Post-Canon, Post-Endless Waltz, Post-Series, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Preventers, Survivor Guilt, Though later on some elements from FT may show up, Unrequited Love, most characters will at least be mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katquasar/pseuds/katquasar
Summary: A handful of short drabbles about the lives of the Gundam pilots after the events of Endless Waltz. (I might be adding more eventually, whenever I feel like writing a new Gundam Wing drabble.)





	1. Agent Maxwell (Duo)

"Agent Maxwell"

The hot water beading down his back was a soothing relief to the ache. There was dirt and a bit of blood in the water that flowed to the drain, but he'd grown accustomed to it. His slender frame was cleaned first, tattooed and scared tanned skin coming clean. Then came is long, ragged brown hair, though not quite as long as it had been six years ago.

Normally, Duo Maxwell would have started humming to himself by now, but his mood muted him. His throat had a hard lump in it that his voice could not move through. His head ached in ways it hadn't in years, not since the days of mobile suit cockpits and Oz soldiers.

Something about the last mission hit a bit too close to home, though. Seeing that church in ruins was a bit too much like reliving the past, dead nuns huddled together.

He had managed to remain composed, because as a Preventer Agent, he had a responsibility, to complete his mission. Though the look in the eyes of the orphans who had managed to survive tore at the ache in his chest. Hours later, he would sob hysterically in Hilde's lap until he nearly passed out.

He would mutter a low prayer to himself, in Latin as he was taught, before he lay down in bed that night. He wouldn't sleep, biting his nails and reliving the burned flesh and hearing the echoes of Sister Helen's soft voice in the recess of his mind.


	2. The Truth (Quatre)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quatre discovers a hidden truth.

"The Truth"

A part of Quatre had never fully believed that he had been born in a test tube like all of his sisters had been. In his younger years, he'd been resented by a few of them, but never understood why. Not until he'd realized that for years, the truth had been staring him right in the face.

He knew his mother, Quaterine, passed away shortly after he had been born. No one had ever told him the circumstances, of course, and he was led to believe that he'd been made in a lab like his siblings had been. His father never liked to stay on the subject of his mother for very long.

On the eve of the heir's nineteenth birthday, he used many of the skill he had learned over the years, first as a Gundam pilot, now as a Preventer Agent. He knew how to hack, of course he did, most of them knew. He wasn't nearly as good as Duo, but he was good enough to get his family's medical records.

His belly ached when his suspicions were finally confirmed. A mug was lying on the ground in shattered pieces in a small puddle of unfinished tea across the room after a moment. He curled up into his office chair, fists bawling over his face and pulling at his blonde bangs as he sobbed quietly into them.

_I killed my mother._


	3. First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (A bit more of a ficlet than a drabble) Trowa and Quatre finally have that moment.

All he'd ever had was a body, before everything had happened. He hadn't even had a name, the one given to him lost in a fuddled murk where his earliest memories were.

From the moment he became Trowa Barton, and took the Gundam to Earth, his life changed. Suddenly, he was something more than a nameless soldier who knew nothing more than how to survive. There was more to life than fighting.

He hadn't realized it right away, when Quatre had first stepped out of his own Gundam. But that moment, the awkward mutual surrender between two adolescent soldiers, was the beginning of one of the most important relationships he would ever have.

The war was over for three years now, the boys staggering towards becoming young men while protecting the fragile peace they'd fought so hard to attain. It was a strange balancing act Trowa found himself in; between performing in the circus with Catherine, being a Preventer, and finding himself as a fledgling young man. He has still the strong, silent member of the group, though he was finding his voice more these days.

Though, how it was when it was all five of the former Gundam pilots was a far reach from when it was just him and Quatre. He was particularly more fond of the Winner family heir, perhaps because of the unspoken bond they'd formed during the war. They were linked together, intricately, despite what expectations lie of the two of them now. If they hadn't joined the Preventers, he would have probably never seen Quatre again, or at least would hardly ever see him. That, for some reason, was difficult, making his chest ache in a foreign way.

The two of them lay together in the trailer, just after one of the weekend performances. Quatre had managed to wiggle out of being stuck in a business meeting to come to see, and meet with him afterward. Tonight, however, the way the dim lighting struck the other's paler complexion caused Trowa to fixate, in a way he had only a few times before. Quatre's bangs, a bit overgrown, flushed over dark blue eyes.

"Trowa..." his voice was oddly soft, held back a bit. He'd completely forgotten what they'd been talking about.

"...can I tell you something?" he responds, his throat suddenly felt tough, a lump forming.

"...you can tell me anything. You know that." the younger of the two murmured, a dimpled smile appearing across his face.

"You...look...I don't know how to say this without sounding awkward."

"Just say it." If it was Duo, it would've sounded impatient, but Quatre was boundlessly patient.

"...I...think you're..." the words weren't coming out the way he wanted them to. He was not a linguist, a poet, like the ones the one before him would read to him sometimes. "...you're beautiful."

He could tell straightaway Quatre was taken aback a bit, but the other's face soon reddened, a slender hand covering lips that cracked into a smile.

"You...Trowa..."

There was a half-thought before Trowa leaned in, pulling Quatre's hand away from his lips and covering them shyly with his own. It was chaste, awkward and inexperienced, but at the very least, he hadn't missed. Nor had their teeth clanged together, like Hilde had said when she'd first gotten awkwardly and suddenly kissed by Duo.

It was over after a moment. The two adolescent men looked at each other, breathlessly looking at one another.

Then Quatre leaned back in, returning the kiss this time.


	4. Lost Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wufei's dreams haunt him, like ghosts of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, an update. It's been over a year. Apologies.

Could one reclaim their lost innocence?

Wufei would normally be asleep at this hour, or so he told himself, looking at the alarm clock by his bed, bright red lights telling him it was a quarter to 4am. Far too early to be late, perhaps too early to sleep.

After he had destroyed his Gundam, he thought the ghosts of his past would leave him behind. The recess of memory held on, however, and Wufei had a rather good memory, especially in comparison to the loudmouth he found himself stuck with on more than one occasion mission. (Duo at least knew how to make him laugh. Sometimes.)

Sometimes he would dream of home. Of the young wife who had never quite had the chance to accept him, the one whom he had failed to protect. Sometimes, he would be staring Treize in the face, and he would lose that duel all over again.

Sometimes he dreamt of Duo, of that hair over one shoulder, hovering above him, a silly grin on his face. Sometimes he was wounded.

Wufei hated dreams. He wouldn't even bother with sleep if he didn't need it. They made him feel irrational things he had no place feeling. He was so tired, but the anxious weight in his chest wouldn't let him sleep. So he didn't.


End file.
